


Only Red

by EnigmaRust



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Babybones (Undertale), Brothers, Cute, Family, Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnigmaRust/pseuds/EnigmaRust
Summary: It's been a long day for Sans. Lil Papyrus attempts to make a snowman out of subpar snow. It does not go well.





	Only Red

It was snowing, and Sans was tired.

It had been a long day, and he’d been on his feet for almost all of it. There was nothing he’d rather do more than go back home and crawl into bed. To close his eyes and let his thoughts scatter and dissipate like a dropped bag of dust. But he knew he couldn’t. Not yet.

He blinked hard and yawned, trying to reinvigorate himself with a lungful of icy air. It didn’t work. Despite the cold, despite the blinding white of the snow, he still felt like toppling facedown into the powder for a quick nap.

There was a muffled thump in the distance, then a faint cry. Sans’ eyes snapped open. The next moment, he was sprinting through the white.

He could see a flash of red through the haze of snow, and his heart jumped into his throat. A few more metres, and he could see him.

Papyrus was sitting in the snow. Tiny. Dwarfed by the parka and red scarf Sans had given him; the coat puffed him out like a star, and any more than two swirls of the scarf would ensconce his entire head.

At the moment he had his right hand tucked within the coat. He was sniffling quietly until he spotted Sans. Then he turned quickly away.

Sans dropped to his knees next to his brother. “What’s up, Paps?”

“Sans!” Papyrus scrubbed his face with the hand not hidden in his parka, then turned to Sans with a look of indignation. “Where have you been?”

“I was just over there. Keeping watch.”

“Were you sleeping?!”

“Why are you hiding your hand, pal?”

Papyrus glanced down at his hidden hand. “It’s the thanks I get for being sociable!” His shoulders then stooped. “I suppose I came on too strong.”

“To who?”

“My new friend.” Papyrus pointed, and Sans turned to see a half-formed snowman a few feet away. It looked atrocious—half of the head had calved off, and shards of ice stuck out like horns over the whole body. One particularly long ice shard stuck out the front, as though it had been stabbed. Papyrus seemed to sense Sans’ desire to laugh and continued defensively: “This snow is hard to work with, Sans! I’d like to see you do better!”

Sans looked down at the snow. It had a thick, crunchy layer on top of loose powder—not the kind of snow anyone would bother trying to form into anything. “I don’t think anyone could, Paps.”

Papyrus seemed to inflate with pride, then immediately deflate as he looked down at his hidden hand.

“How did you hurt your hand, Paps?”

“I had assumed that they would be pleased with such a hearty welcome.” Papyrus drew himself up. “From me, the Great Papyrus!”

“Is that big shard of ice their hand, Papyrus?”

“Yes.”

“Did you shake their hand, Papyrus?”

“Yes.”

“You grabbed a sharp piece of ice very tightly, Papyrus?”

“Yes.”

Papyrus looked completely disheartened as he withdrew his hand and let Sans study it. Sans glanced at his brother’s downtrodden expression. “Well,” he murmured. “That wasn’t very _ice_ of them, was it?”

Papyrus snatched his hand back and let out a screech. Sans grinned, then took another look at the snowman. “Well, Paps, maybe we should take your friend down. So they don’t hurt anyone else.”

“No!” Sans looked back at Papyrus, who now looked horrified. “That’s not the way to treat a friend, Sans!”

Sans raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure they’re your friend, buddy?”

“Well…” Papyrus faltered. “Well…even if they aren’t now, it doesn’t mean they _won’t_ be!” He seemed to inflate again. “If I think the same about things as I did the first time I met them, then it wouldn’t be giving them a fair shake! The first time I tried spaghetti, I thought it tasted like soggy wood covered in tomato sauce!”

“You boiled a box of pencils, Paps,” Sans murmured.

“Everyone and everything deserves a second chance at a first impression!” Papyrus put a small hand to his chest. “That is why I, The Great Papyrus, make an effort to forget everyone’s names the first time they tell it to me!”

Sans glance at the snowman again. The ice shard sparkled in the muted light. “Paps,” Sans said. “You understand that not everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you?”

“Yes, they do.” Papyrus’s jaw was set. He, too, looked at the snowman. “All I need to do is take off the pointy bits and add more snow to their head.”

Sans put a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder. “Some things you can fix. But some things…some things can’t be. Bro, are you listening?” He gave his shoulder a small shake. “Some things can’t be, and it’s dangerous to try.”

Papyrus stared up at his big brother. “But I’m not afraid of trying! I’m afraid of failing! Failing at being a good friend!”

Sans stared into his brother’s resolute eyes. He sighed, then turned toward the trees, where the snow had been protected from the icy rain. “I think the snow’s less crusty over there, Paps. It’ll be easier to work with.” He got to his feet. “I’ll go grab some, okay?”

“You will? Wowee!” Papyrus scrambled to stand as well. “And I, Papyrus, will stand here! As a shining beacon for you to return to!”

Sans started towards the trees. The wind was getting bitter—it whipped at his hood, and again he daydreamed about his bed.

He had only walked twenty or so steps before a strange sound made him halt. He turned, confused. Papyrus was no longer standing next to the snowman.

Sans ran the short distance back, the ice crunching under his slippers and nearly causing him to trip. He skidded to a stop and fell to his knees again, crawling up to where Papyrus lay.

“Paps.”

He grabbed his brother’s arm and felt only an empty sleeve. He felt along the parka—it was empty. The scarf wrapped around nothing.

He couldn’t draw breath. The ice was melting into the knees of his shorts. He unraveled the scarf, searching. Only red.

Sans looked up at the snowman. The ice shard glittered. The half head now had a face. One red eye, and a small smile.

***

Sans’ eyes snapped open. The golden light from the windows shone on the tiles.

There was a figure at the end of the hall. Something glittered in their hand. Sans watched as the figure stepped forward, their eyes red, a small smile on their face.

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny bit late to the party, but I like to think I'm still fashionably late! Not too well versed in all the Undertale knowledge, but I'll get there. Thanks for reading this teensy fic, my dudes!


End file.
